


WAITING FOR SUPERMAN

by lauxeyson



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 04:51:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11867124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauxeyson/pseuds/lauxeyson
Summary: After countless nights of dancing with strangers and dreaming of love, you finaly meet the right guy. Will you and superman survive what life throws your way? Your story has just begun.





	WAITING FOR SUPERMAN

Tonight you were trying again, hoping for a chance to meet him. Whoever he may be. Standing in front of the mirror you put the final additions to your outfit. A red, knee length polka dotted dress, black heels and a pearl necklace were the main elements of your look. You matched the dress with bold red lipstick and nail polish. Keeping your eye make-up to a minimal and your hair flowing free, you decided it was as good as it was gonna get.

The phone rang and the feeling you knew all too well, slight panic, flowed through your veins.

You ran as fast as your heels would allow to the kitchen before they could hang up.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N)? Doll, is that you?” Patricia’s voice rang in your ear. You sighed slightly to yourself. She was your closest friend and was always super supportive. She volunteered to go out with you tonight. She loved it because she got to look at a bunch of handsome men, both soldiers and civilians. She herself was happily married to Charles, but she always said that it didn’t hurt to look.

Patricia had been a key part in your life. A shoulder to cry on, someone to vent to. She always knew exactly what to say in order to calm you down. For as long as you could remember you two had been inseparable. You met while you were still in school. Thankfully, your friendship was one of the few to last after graduating. Her husband, Charles, was a real sweetheart. Maybe one day you could have something like that for yourself. Someone to come home to.

She was a fiery redhead who loved her fun. You two used to get into all sorts of trouble before she got married. She knew how to talk to you when you needed help and didn’t let you down easily if you did something to her distaste. She was that kind of pretty who looked horrible at 7am, but like a real queen at 8am. How she did it was a mystery.

“Who else would it be?” You laughed slightly at her question. She knew perfectly well that you lived alone. Neither a roommate or a significant other could be found hiding somewhere in your one bedroom apartment.

“You ready? I’m in the taxi outside your building.” You could hear her taking a long drag of her cigarette. She was always smoking, even if you told her to quit.

“Yes, I’ll be down in a sec, okay?”

You hung up the phone shortly after and made some final adjustments to your hair. Grabbing your coat, you carefully made your way down the stairs. You had never been one for heels, so when you wore them you made sure to be extra cautious.

Patricia greeted you as you got in the cab, complimenting your look. It was a more dolled up look for you, something you usually didn’t go for. But after the couple of failed nights, you wanted to change things up. Speed it up, dial it up a notch or whatever they called it.

Tonight was another chance at finding him. You had no idea who he was, what he would look like or what his name was. But you knew you had to find him. Your very own superman. The man that would take your world by storm. Blow you away. You had to find him. So you went out, every weekend you could be found at all the different dances all around town. Looking for him.

You and Patricia arrived a moment too soon at this week’s dance. You could really use a few more minutes to gather your head. What if this was the night? What would you say to him? Would you even know it was him? What if it wasn’t? What if he would never be there?

Getting out of the taxi, you stopped for a moment to catch your breath. Why were you so nervous? It’s ridiculous. You watched as the taxi driver pulled away. It was like he drove away with all your hope of finding love. All your ambition, all your hopes, left in that taxi.

“(Y/N)? The girls are waiting for us inside,” Patricia said and grabbed your hand. You gave her a small smile, as if it was some kind of apology. She had gathered the entire squad for tonight. All the girls would be there, waiting for you.

It’s been a while since the last time you went out. You thought you’d finally found him, the one man for you. But he then turned out to be a total creep, and it broke your heart. Because you allowed yourself to get your hopes up. You got ahead of yourself.

After that, you locked yourself up in your apartment. The girls all came over, trying to take your mind of it. They knew how much you struggled with it, how you were always looking out for him. Finally, out again, after what seems like 100 days, you were somewhat ready to give it another try. You just couldn’t give up. Not yet.

Walking in to the huge ballroom, the loud music hit you like a wave. Nat King Cole’s “unforgettable” would be blaring over the speakers every night. Hundreds of people were swirling across the floor. Boys and girls. Men and women. All ages, couples smiling and kissing each other. They seemed to be having a good time.

Patricia led you to a table in the back of the room. Several people were resting their feet, drinking milkshakes out of a shared straw. Even from a distance, you could see the girls extradited excitedly waving at you. It had been way to long since you saw them last. They were all there. Donna, a fellow waitress from the diner where you work. Kathleen, housewife and mother of two. Marilyn, a wannabe actress. Bonnie, a nurse. Jean and Alice, two of Brooklyn’s finest singers.

You gave them all a kiss before you seated yourself next to Patricia. Everyone fell back into their own conversations and you finally got a moment to calm down. Hearing their laughs and seeing a smile spread across their painted lips was always calming. No matter what happened, at least you still had them.

“So, where is this superman of yours?” Jean spoke up. Everyone fell silent as they awaited your answer. “Is he coming or what?”

“Yeah he’s still coming, he’s just a little bit late,” you said with a small smirk. Patricia gave you a reassuring smile. “He got stuck at the laundromat washing his cape.”

They laughed at your joke, but deep down you knew they felt pity for you. That was something you never wanted. They all had their fun; man after man came and went. But that was never your style. You knew there was only one man for you. Your superman. And one day you were sure you’d find him. You had to.

“I need some air,” you said and started to get up. The girls all gave you a worried look, but you waved your hand telling them you were fine. Patricia offered to go with you, but you wanted a moment alone. You navigated your way through dancing couples, trying to make it unharmed to the exit.

The cold night air caused chills to run down your spine, but you welcomed it. It was too hot in there. It was as if everyone was staring at you, thinking you were crazy. They all thought your idea of ‘superman’ was ridiculous.

You solemnly looked up at the night sky. Clouds were rolling in, covering the city as a blanket for the night. They seemed to be spelling your name, just like you were Lois Lane and Superman was waiting for you at the corner. But you knew he wasn’t. You weren’t her. Unlike her, you didn’t have your superman. Oh, how you wanted to be her though.

Once inside again, it was time to dance. You smiled sweetly at every man that laid eyes on you, accepting every offer for a dance. Who knew, maybe this one was your superman? You’d never know, unless you gave it a try.

You danced the night away, smiling at every man you saw. But none of them felt right. It always felt wrong. The way he talked to you. Held you. Treated you. It was all wrong. They were all incredibly handsome men, but they were only looking for one thing. A thing you weren’t interested in, not until you found him.

At home, your feet hurt like never before. Was it worth it? The pain, the wait, the looks. All of it. Was it worth it? Were you ever going to find him, or were you just wasting your time?

Something you always did, no matter when or where, was pray. You prayed to the angles that one day you’d find him, and he’d sweep you off your feet. You always counted the stars before you went to sleep, hoping that somewhere out there, he was doing the same.

On your way to work the next morning, you made several wishes on a passing car. You believed it meant luck, and that your wish would come true. Every one of your wishes was fixated on him. He had to find you one day.

That’s why you were always dancing with strangers. You hoped that you would catch his eye like that, maybe he’d get jealous. But you never met him, and every time that happened, you fell apart. You spent so much time wishing, hoping, waiting for him to come pick you up and swirl you around in his arms. But he never did.

In between breaks at the diner, you went out on the corner, trying to catch a glimpse. It was a busy street, maybe he’d walk by one day. Stop and come inside. But you had no idea who he was. Nothing made sense anymore. Why haven’t you met him yet? How would you know it was him? Somehow, you knew that when the time came, you’d just know.

Donna joined you at your corner, glancing over the huge crowd of people. All so busy, always in a hurry.

“He come by yet?”

Sighing, you felt the tears pricking in your eyes. Why was it taking so long?

“He’s coming, he’s just a little bit late,” you sniffed and blinked harshly. “He got stuck at the five and dime saving the day, that’s all.”

Donna hummed as a response; she knew better then to question you. She saw how much you were hurting, she saw how it broke you piece by piece. You kept chasing an answer. Asking everyone if they met their one true love, how long it took before they did. How they knew it was them.

You spent every free moment looking for a sign, but it seemed to be lost in the abyss of this metropolis, which they called Brooklyn. What were you supposed to do when no answer came? When there was no sign?

You stayed silent for so long, Donna had to shake you a little to make sure you were still with her. That’s when the flood gates opened. She hurried to cradle you in her arms, whispering calming words.

“If life was a movie, it wouldn’t end like this,” you said wiping the tears away. “Left without a kiss.”

You went with the girls again next weekend. Another dance, another night full of loving couples mocking you. But this time you decided not to try so hard. Not spend every minute looking for someone you had no idea who was. You had to at least try and dial it down.

It wasn’t easy, but you didn’t mean it to be. You caught yourself several times that night looking over the crowd in hopes to find him looking back at you. You still smiled at every man that looked your way, at every man that asked you to dance.

So you kept dancing with strangers, hoping, thinking that he could be the one. You fell apart every time he proved not to. It seemed impossible to find the right one. The one that would take your heart away. The one that would pick you up in his arms. Take you away, to anywhere. The one that would show you the love you missed out on. He, who would take you flying through the air. He, who would save you before it was too late.

Maybe you asked to much. What if there was no one who could do just that?

The song ended and you went back to the table. All the girls were patiently waiting. You didn’t say anything as you sat down, just quietly taking a sip of your drink.

“My feet are killing me,” you said and took a deep breath. Donna, Marilyn and Kathleen were the first ones to speak up. All at the same time.

“So?”

“Anyone?”

“Was that him?”

“No,” you said and fished the lipstick out of your purse. “They are all nice, but… it’s not him.”

They all cursed loudly, something that made you smile. They cared so much for you, and you for them. At first they all thought you were crazy when you told them about finding your superman. None of them could understand how you didn’t want to go home with a new, random guy every weekend. Why you were so fixated on that one man. ‘Superman’ of all things.

You applied another coat of red lipstick before you handed it over to Jean, per her request. Scrambling to your feet, you dragged Patricia with you over to the bar. She always made you feel better about things. You both leaned on the counter waiting for someone to take your orders.

The young man that worked as bartender handed you over the drinks. But just before you were about to pay him, a voice spoke up behind you.

“T-The d-drinks are on me.”

You whipped around to the sound of the voice. It sounded masculine, but shy. Your breath hitched in your throat when you came face to face with the bluest eyes you had ever seen. Before you, stood a small, skinny looking man. He looked quiet dapper in his suit jacket and tie, handing money to the bartender.

“Thank you sir,” you said and smiled sweetly at him. Your mouth spoke before your mind could process the nice gesture. He didn’t take his eyes away from yours. The man opened and closed his mouth several times, but no words escaped him. Patricia moved to go back to the table, gesturing for you to follow her. The man’s eyes showed disappointment when she started to pull you away, and in a way, you felt almost sorry for the man. Clearly, this was some attempt to speak to either you or her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” you said and wiggled out of Patricia’s hold. You stepped closer to the man, towering slightly above him. Something that almost never happened. His blue eyes were piercing, radiant and shined with hope at your move. 

“Rogers Steve- Steve Rogers,” he said awkwardly and ruffled his hair. You smiled amused at him, something about him intrigued you.

“I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you Steve.”

Steve grinned slightly at the use of his name. “Fly me to the moon” started playing over the speakers and more couples occupied the dance floor. Patricia left to dance with some handsome soldier, leaving you and Steve alone to your somewhat awkward conversation.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” you said and took a small sip of your drink. Your lipstick left a small mark on the glass.

“I don’t usually go to these dances. My friend over there,” he said and pointed out a brunette man in a black suit out on the dance floor. “He made me come with him.”

You hummed slightly while eyeing the man out on the dance floor. He was significally larger than Steve, but no more handsome. “Why aren’t you dancing?”

“Ladies aren’t exactly lining up to dance with someone they might step on.”

Sitting your drink down, you offered him a small smile. His comment made you feel pity for him. How could no one want to dance with him?

“I’ll dance with you.” His eyes light up, a small smile played on his lips, but it disappeared just as fast as it appeared. “Only if you want to.”

Steve nodded awkwardly. Neither of you were completely sure what the next move should be. You weren’t used to this. Usually the man that asked for your hand in a dance was more confident. He would lead you out on the floor; twirl you around so fast it made your head spin and then move to pull you a tad too close.

But Steve was clearly not like that. He seemed unsure of himself. Like his thoughts were rummaging inside his mind. Debating what to do next, going over all the different possibilities. Neither of you moved, you stood still in your spot. Awkward smiles and laughs were exchanged whenever you’d catch the others eye.

“Should we-“ you looked out on the dance floor. Steve seemed to get what you meant as he straightened his back. Oh so carefully he reached out a small hand for you to take. A genuine smile spread across your lips at the sudden, small but meaningful move. Steve should be the one to take the lead. He was the man and all, it was only right. So you let him lead you out amongst the other dancers. 

He hesitated when the time came to actually dance. You slowly put a hand on his small shoulder, squeezing lightly in hopes of calming him. He smiled at you. His eyes glimmered in the lights, and never in your entire life, had you seen something so beautiful. He had the eyes of a legitimate angel. He held the universe in those ocean eyes of his. You could get lost in them.

His hands carefully engulfed your waist, barely holding on. Your own hands slid back even further on his shoulders, but not as far for you to cross them. The band started playing Nat King Cole’s “Unforgettable” much like every other night.

Slowly and carefully, you started to sway to the music. You moved slowly from side to side, lost in the calm of the song. Steve accidentally stepped on your toes a few times, but you laughed it off. The look of sheer panic on his face every time he thought he did something wrong, made your heart clench. All you wanted to do was scoop him up and hug the life out of him. You’d probably manage that if you tried.

The song ended, but it went unnoticed. You continued the slow sways between you, lost in each others eyes. The next song was significally more up beat, so your slow dance was a sight to behold.

Breaking out of your trance, you sat down at a free table and ordered a few drinks. After the dance, even as slow as it was, you were both parched. The mood between you changed, and Steve was visibly more relaxed.

You got talking. He told you all about his life. Losing his father, supporting his mother, only to lose her as well a few years later. His incredible relationship with his best friend Bucky. Apparently the same guy he pointed out before.

Yourself, you vented about your own life and problems. The job you took at the diner. Spending time with the girls and their husbands. How bad it made you feel when you were the only one single. You debated wether or not to tell him about all the time you spent looking for ‘superman’. Maybe he’d think you were crazy if you did.

He went on to talk about what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. He was passionate about drawing, always sketching something and not letting anyone see. He spoke of wanting to serve his country. The image of him in the army awoke something inside you, something no one would think possible for a stranger they just met. You worried about him. It made you anxious.

The more you talked, the more he told you about himself, the more you liked him. He was so easy to talk to, and that was a rare thing. Eventually you told him about your crazy little idea. He seemed okay with it, like it didn’t bother him too much.

He sometimes stumbled over his words, said the wrong thing or in the wrong order. He was cute. Adorably cute in fact. It all happened at the speed of light. He was always so polite. To everyone and anyone. He was, in fact, a real life superman. Listen to him. He’s talking of protecting his country, but he doesn’t want to kill anyone. He’s been picked on and bullied his entire life, but he’s not angry or mean because of it. It sounds like he’s had his fare share of problems, but still he’s so sweet. He IS superman.

That night, after you got home, he was all you could think of. You’d given him your number of course. Couldn’t risk superman getting away. You’d even told him the name of the diner where you worked. Just in case.

Your prayers, all the prayers and all the nights you begged, they had finally been heard. The endless stream of tears in between each one, got answered. All the sleepless nights you counted stars, hoping somewhere he’d do the same, all the wishes you made on a passing car, they were all heard. They all finally, finally paid off. There would be no more dancing with strangers, you’d only dance with Steve from now on. You knew you would. There would be no more wasting tears, because you’d found your superman.

Steve smiled bigger than ever that night. Bucky couldn’t feather what made his best friend so happy. But whatever it was, he was glad. It had been too long since he’d seen him smile like that.

He had met an amazing gal. She was, she was, he couldn’t find the right word that would fit her. Truth is, no word was good enough. He wanted to know everything about her, he wanted to be… hers. It was a thought he’d never had before. But he liked it. Her smile was enough to take his breath away, but then again anything could.

The first thing he did when he got back, was to go straight to his room. There he found his pencils and paper. He sat down and got to work. He just had to draw you. While your smile was still fresh on his memory.

On the course of the next few days, you occupied his mind. He had your number, but not the courage to call it. What was he supposed to say? ‘Hey, I’ve been thinking about you, nonstop and I miss you like crazy, even though we just met…’ No.

But he should call right? If he didn’t, you’d think he wasn’t interested. He went to Bucky for advice, wondering what the hell to do. Bucky was, firstly surprised by his language, but more than happy to help. Who knew, little Stevie had girl trouble.

Bucky gave him a real long talk. Everything he had learned over the years, as Brooklyn’s own dreamboat was really helpful. Steve listened patiently, making mental notes and preparing himself for what to come. How did this come to pass? He had never imagined that he would ever have the chance at love. But here he was. Palms sweaty and breath shaky as he dialed your number. What to expect, he had no idea. He had no idea what he was asking you.

After stuttering and stammering, he cursed himself each time it happened, he managed to score a date with you. Every night he got another idea, or thought of something clever to say to you, when the date came.

The day arrived faster than he thought. Pulling his shirt sleeves down, straightening his jacket, Steve gave himself a last look in the mirror. He really wanted tonight to be perfect. He went for the more formal first date. Suit and tie, a flower in hand and Bucky as his private chauffer. You’d go out for dinner, at a new restaurant he was sure he couldn’t afford. But with a smile and a flutter of his lashes, Bucky gave him a few bucks as a loan. He really, really wanted tonight to be perfect.

Dinner went by effortlessly. You talked and talked for hours. Steve felt like he’d known you forever. After that, things escalated quickly. One date turned into three. One week turned into one month, and soon Steve was able to call you his girlfriend.

He loved stopping by at the diner. He’d never tell you, but the pale blue and pink uniform you wore, had become quite the fantasy for him. Steve didn’t care what shift you worked that day. He’d sit all day by the counter, sketching, admiring his girl and from time to time, eat the piece of pie you’d bring him. The little brown leather bound sketchbook he owned, was now filled to the brink with images of you.

Everyday he’d compliment you. He loved seeing you smile when he praised you. Sometimes, it was rather annoying from your point of view, and often you’d shut him up with a kiss. He really didn’t mind it at all. Kissing you was perfect. He could do it all day.

Your nickname for him, was easily his favorite thing. ‘Superman’ was strange and awkward at first, but he soon eased into it. You looked like an angel, and he swore your eyes shined brighter than ever before when you called him that. Bucky tormented him because of it.

He got in less and less fights. You worried about him, he knew that. But sometimes he couldn’t stop it. The little guy that used to fight anything on two legs creeped up when confronted. His fist brought high, shifting his wait from one foot to the other, Steve got ready to throw, or receive the first punch.

“If I were you I’d walk away.” Steve was dead serious. His bully was at least ten feet higher than him, and way bigger. But he wasn’t scared. Never had been.

“And why is that little guy?”

“Because I’m superman, that’s why.”

You were always there to path him up when he did get his ass kicked. One quiet afternoon, Steve sat on the bathroom sink in his and Bucky’s shared apartment while you cleaned his wounds. You were rambling about how he had to be careful, how you hated seeing him like this, how he had to stop or else the next thing you’d be doing was attending his funeral. Your words went in one ear and out the other.

“Move in with me,” he said calmly. You stopped your movements, cotton swab hovering over the gash on his cheek. He chuckled at how adorable you looked.

“Move in with me,” he said once again, louder this time. His hands moved up to engulf your cheeks as he whispered it one more time. “Move in with me.”

A few weeks later, you were the newest member of the Barnes/Rogers household. Bucky agreed on two terms. 1: No canoodiling with him in the same room. 2: You’d have to cook, since both he and Steve were hopeless in the kitchen.

And that’s how it came to pass. Steve did not only have a girlfriend, he lived with her as well. Take that bullies.

Your life was better than ever. The only thing that bothered you, was the fact that you worked at a diner, where you prepared and cooked meals all day. And when you got home, you had to cook for the two knuckleheads you lived with. Steve was a sweetie though. He tried his best to help you, cutting the vegies and taking care of the easy things. Bucky of course couldn’t be any worse than his best friend. Soon they were both in the kitchen with you. Bucky was good with the knife, and Steve’s specialty was stirring the pots.

“You should marry that girl Stevie, or I will,” Bucky said as he tasted the food you made for them. He closed his eyes and smiled with a mouthful of food. You smiled fondly at him and laughed slightly at his reaction.

“Oh I will. One day,” Steve said and grabbed your hand. “One day I’m going to marry ya doll.” He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed it lightly.

Years passed, where they went no one knew. The great depression was hard on everyone. You struggled, of course you did. At one point you almost lost the apartment, your job and money was slow. It took it’s toll on your relationship with Steve. You fought more, arguing about the economy and work. Buck tried to act as a buffer, but he only made matters worse. But you pulled through. Even if you came close to taking a break, you never gave up on each other.

The day Bucky came home saying he got enlisted, was one of the worst days of your life. You knew Steve wanted the same, he told you so many times. He tried so hard to get enlisted. He travelled all over town, used fake names and addresses and was so determined to get in, it scared you. He drifted further and further away from you, it became his obsession. It only got worse after Bucky was deployed. It broke him that he couldn’t fit alongside his friend.

Every time he came home, a scowl on his face, you felt relieved. Time after time he got rejected. You didn’t tell him, but you hoped he’d never get accepted. How was your little Stevie going to survive a war? The thought of loosing him was to strong, but you hid it and comforted him when he came home after yet another rejection. You’d always be there for him.

You thought he forgot about it. A few weeks went by without another try. You felt easier, lighter than ever when you prepared dinner that night. You’d gotten so used to making extra’s since Bucky was a big eater, you forgot to make less now that he was gone.

“(Y/N)!” Steve’s voice echoed in the small apartment. “Baby!” From the tone of his voice, you didn’t know if there was something wrong or good. You ran as fast as your feet and the slippery floor would allow out in the living room. He stood there, in his suit and tie, which you picked out for him that morning, and a piece of paper in his hand. A wide smile stretched from ear to ear. Your heart sank at the sight.

“I got enlisted,” he said and the tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “I got accepted doll.” He sounded so happy. You swallowed thickly, only to find your throat dry. Your mouth was slightly open from the surprise, one you really wish you hadn’t gotten. “Say somethin’.”

“That’s…” you blinked the tears away and shifted uncomfortably. “That’s great honey.” He smiled even bigger. His laugh filled the room as he walked up to give you a big hug. He used to complain about not being able to pick you up, twirl you around in his arms like the princess you were.

“When… when do you have to leave?”

“Tomorrow.” You furrowed your brows and looked down on the ground. He was leaving so soon. Too soon. Way, way too soon. “I know it’s short notice, but this guy offered to help me out and- I’ll be fine.”

“I’m so scared.” You croaked out and let your head fall on his shoulder.

“I know baby, I know,” he said and traced soothing patterns on your back. “How ‘bout this; When I get back, the first thing I’m doing, is marrying you.” You looked up on him longingly. “I promise.”

That night you held him closer than ever before. And you definitely made sure he’d never forget you. You drove him the next day, to the train station. It was like one of those heartbreaking scenes in the movies. You embraced each other one last time before he got on the train, taking him far far away from you. Your superman was off to save the world.

He promised he’d call and write you as often as he could. For the first few days he kept his promise. He wrote you telling you he got there safe and his talk with some doctor whose name escapes you. But then it was quiet for a good while. Weeks turned into months and the more time that went by, the more anxious and worried you got.

Patricia gathered the girls and tried her best to calm you. No matter what she had you doing, your mind always drifted to Steve. One day she and all the girls wanted to go see a propaganda film of someone called ‘Captain America’. Patricia, Margaret, Donna, Marilyn they all swooned talking about this guy.

The film began to play and Captain America himself took the stage. The girls all sighed simultaneously. Even though the guy had a helmet on, he looked so much like one you knew. But you couldn’t quite figure it out. He was blond, tall, broad shoulders, a small waist. His eyes felt familiar. It’s crazy how much he looked like… You gasped loud enough for the whole theater to hear. Steve. That, Captain America, that tall guy on the screen right in front of you was Steve. Your Steve.

A few days later he finally called you. He apologized for not calling sooner and explained the whole situation. You got a full recap of the experiments, Bucky, the howling commandoes and some nice woman named Peggy. According to him they had one last mission before they could take out the enemy and win the war. He sounded hopeful, happy, but still the same. His voice was still the same as the little guy you fell in love with.

He promised he’d call again soon. All you could do was wish him luck, telling him to be careful and safe. You made sure he’d take good care of Bucky, who from the sound of it, hadn’t been just as lucky as Steve. Relief washed over you after hearing his voice. Hearing that he was safe and alive.

September 27th 1945, a joyous day, they came back to you. Steve and Bucky both came home from fighting a war. Not a lot of people could say that. They were somewhat beaten up, but otherwise okay.

Bucky looked the same, but Steve. Steve was different. He scooped you up in his arms, finally being able to do so, and spun you around. He held you just as close as you did before he left.

Steve is a man of his word. He always kept a promise. Early May of 1946, he married you in front of all your friends. Patricia was your maid of honor, and Bucky was the best man. Everyone cheered loudly as you walked out of the church hand in hand, on the way to start a new life. Together.


End file.
